Spirit of the Season
by Shadow's Interceptor
Summary: Post Necron, Pre Game's Epilogue. Winter for a Burmecian can be a pain, with frostbitten toes and great big monks refusing to acknowledge that Midwinter's Eve is best spent with friends, not skulking alone in a corner. Or maybe those problems are exclusive to Freya. But hey, at least there's peppermint candy! Minor spoilers and minor language. Happy Holidays!


_I got this idea in my head and just couldn't get it to go away. So in the spirit of the season I give you yet another Final Fantasy "Midwinter's Eve" story. I'm sorry if this isn't as polished as some of my other work: my beta reader has not played Final Fantasy IX and does not wish to receive any more spoilers than I've unintentionally given him, so I've done all my own editing on this one. By the way, anyone feel like betaing a FF IX story if I ever get around to writing it?_

_ I do not own Final Fantasy IX and never will._

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Midwinter's Eve was the most anticipated night over the whole of Gaia. While each culture had its own particular celebrations, all acknowledged and praised the longest night of the year as a forerunner to warmer days. It was common to see lights on in homes and establishments late into the already long night as people gathered to eat, exchange gifts, and just be together. It was Freya's favorite night of the year and not just because it meant the eventual end of the cold, which invariably led to frostbitten paws.

She laughed quietly into her sleeve as she watched Steiner leap about in joy when Vivi presented him with a shiny new set of armored boots. Thanks to Garnet and Beatrix's scheme the bouncing knight would have a full set of brand new rust free armor before the night was through, with one piece contributed by each of their companions. Well, almost all: Quina saw no point in giving gifts that were not food, so Eiko and Garnet convinced Regent Cid and Lady Hilda to contribute to the Garb Steiner Project in the Qu's stead. It didn't take much convincing. They were hosting the party after all, Eiko's idea, and both were fond of the bumbling knight.

Freya nibbled at a piece of Quina's gift to her, one of a bundle of superb sticks of peppermint candy that were now hidden in her jacket pocket, as she surveyed the Lindblum conference hall decked out in all its holiday glory. Due to the gathering's small size the Fabools elected to use this smaller space rather than the formal ballroom and with everything draped with festive garland and all other sorts of decorations Freya thought the space was the perfect mix of formal and homey. The center table was piled high with all sorts of holiday treats and festive candles burned along every flat surface. She even thought she spied a sprig of mistletoe hung in one shadowy corner and made a mental note to herd Steiner and Beatrix towards it later.

Even Garnet seemed to be enjoying herself tonight. Freya knew firsthand how difficult it was to spend the holidays without the person you loved. At the thought of Fratley, most likely spending his Midwinter's Eve keeping Puck from getting into trouble, Freya's ears drooped. He'd been invited just as she had, but decided to respectfully decline. The reason he gave was the necessity of watching King Puck, but Freya thought it had more to do with the fact that no matter how many times she told him, he could never remember anyone's name. The poor man tried to convince everyone that his inability to form new memories easily was nothing, but Freya knew it disturbed him immensely. She didn't press when he told her he wished to stay in Burmecia. But she still didn't think twice about accepting the invitation herself.

Freya shook her head in irritation. There would be time enough to think on things like that later: now she was going to be _happy_. She polished off the last of her peppermint stick and strode towards the hallway, making sure to pat Eiko fondly on the head as she passed. The little summoner had a sprig of holly tied to her horn and was trying her best to convince Lady Hilda that she was in fact old enough to try some of the "adult" punch that her father arranged to be brought in. It wasn't working. If there was ever a person as stubborn as Eiko, it was her adoptive mother!

The hallway outside the conference room was curiously empty. Strange, she was certain he'd be out here, skulking just out of sight but not out of earshot. Although . . . Freya brought to mind a layout of the conference room and padded down the hall, taking the first right that presented itself. As expected, there was Amarant leaning against the near wall with his arms folded across his chest; directly underneath the conference room's ventilation grate. He could hear everything without being a part of the celebration himself, the clever antisocial son of a bitch.

"Hey."

The flame haired monk raised his head to look at her.

". . . what do you want, rat?"

In the spirit of the season she decided to ignore his rudeness. "Want some candy? It's peppermint."

She could imagine the raised eyebrow beneath the mass of hair covering his face that went along with his incredulous snort at her offer. So that was apparently a no to the candy. Oh well, more for her.

"Quina?" he asked.

Freya pulled out another stick and started to gnaw at it. "Yes, Quina gave me a whole batch. It's quite good. You know there's a platter of that smoked fish you like on the table, right?"

He grunted in acknowledgement and waved one large hand in a dismissive gesture. _I know; I'll have some later when everyone is gone._ Amarant-speak was really rather simple to understand once one got used to it.

"Where's Forgetful Fratley?" Amarant drawled. Freya laid her ears back and briefly bared her teeth at the big man, not that he acknowledged her displeasure.

"Sir Iron Tail Fratley," she put great emphasis on the name, "is in Burmecia keeping King Puck from eating himself into a sugar coma."

He shrugged. "Just wanted to know if I'd be gettin' called 'Archie' again anytime soon."

Despite her initial displeasure at the teasing she couldn't help cracking a smile. Of all the names that started with the letter A, Fratley had to pick the least appropriate of them all to pin to the lumbering hulk of a monk the few times they'd met. "He at least got the first letter right on your name. I suppose your unique appearance makes an impression."

Amarant smirked. "Not many people can forget a face this ugly."

At that she let out a short bark of laughter. "At least you aren't a frog. Or an oglop! You would be one heck of an ugly oglop."

"Look who's talkin'" he snickered, "You'd be an oglop with _fur_."

They both laughed at that. Though there was little need to do so, Amarant stepped a pace to the left, opening up more wall space under the ventilation grate, and motioned towards the area he'd vacated with a jerk of his head. Freya shifted in without a second thought. It appeared that even antisocial sons of bitches sometimes liked company around the holidays. As she leaned against the wall her tail happened to brush against something on the floor. Freya looked down to see a water stained burlap sack, incredibly out of place on the vibrant red carpet. She flicked the back of Amarant's leg with her tail then motioned towards the curious sack.

"What's in the bag?"

He grunted and crossed his arms over his chest again. "Stuff."

"Care to elaborate?" she queried.

"No."

"Mind if I guess?"

"Don't care."

She took that as a go ahead. "It's either a very poorly packed change of clothes or a parcel of Midwinter's Eve gifts you're going to leave outside of everyone's respective rooms right before you leave tomorrow morning."

Amarant said nothing, but the blast of breath that shot out of his nose told Freya that her guess, the second one that is, was almost certainly right on the money. Of course the Flaming Amarant couldn't be caught doing something as companionable as giving gifts to friends on Midwinter's Eve. Didn't the idiot know that half the fun was seeing the recipient's reaction to the gift? Actually, he probably didn't. Knowing Amarant's propensity for hating and avoiding just about everyone, these might be the first Midwinter's Eve presents the monk had ever gotten for someone else!

"Let me make some more guesses. You got Vivi a new hat, Eiko a piece of jewelry, greaves for Steiner, a whetstone for Beatrix, something to remind Garnet of Zidane, Quina a new spoon, a dirty book for the Regent, perfume for Lady Hilda, and rain proofing kit for me."

The big monk's arms seemed to fold together more tightly and his head dropped towards his chest. Through the curtain of thick hair Freya thought she heard him say something.

"What was that?" Long ears pointed towards Amarant as they tried to decipher his slightly louder mumble in vain. "A little louder, please."

"Boots," he growled just loud enough for Freya to hear.

She cocked her head curiously. "Excuse me?"

"I got you boots, rat," he muttered, "So you can stop freezing your damn paws off in the snow."

Freya's quivering ears and twitching tail belayed her surprise. Boots? For a Burmecian? From Amarant? She thought he liked poking fun at her race's preference of bare paws. He certainly seemed to get a perverse amount of joy ribbing her over the whole frostbite on the mountain incident, when she nearly lost six toes after trekking up and down Mount Gulug.

Ever perceptive, Amarant picked up on her apprehension . . . or was it curiosity? How ever did the flame haired idiot pick up on her mood when she herself couldn't tell what it was? In any case, he shook his head with a frustrated bark, "You want a damn rain proofin' kit? I'll get you that instead, just give me a few-"

"No!" Freya interrupted, "Boots sound lovely, though I must admit a little strange. Can I," she paused, feeling almost shy about asking, "Can I see them?"

Amarant bent down and started to untie the string holding the burlap sack closed. "They're your damn boots, ain't they?" After a moment of rummaging he managed to pull two silver grey boots sized for a Burmecian out of the grungy bag. They were made of thin leather that, Freya discovered when Amarant handed them over, was lined with soft wool. She slipped them on and marveled at how well they fit. The bottoms lacked a traditional hard sole: instead they were rather like tall fitted leather slippers, which did not bode well for the longevity of the boots but allowed her to feel the ground far better. It wasn't the same as going bare pawed, but it was darn close. And they were quite warm.

"They are wonderful, thank you," she said with a wide smile. Amarant grumbled something under his breath and waved a hand in her general direction. Freya's ears flattened against her skull. "Don't you brush it off! This is a lovely thoughtful gift, the best one I've received this Midwinter. How in the world did you guess the size?"

Amarant looked a bit confused by her scolding, but didn't let it faze him for long.

"So they fit?"

"Yes. My question, answer it please."

He shrugged. "Had 'em made special. Used the size of your tracks as a blueprint and went to someone who said they could make shoes for rats."

"Amarant," Freya could feel her ears quivering with emotion, "that's really sweet. Thank you." He grunted and tensed up, but didn't move away when she hugged him. When she let go and didn't immediately move out of his personal space the big monk did start to twitch a little bit. Upon seeing that Freya's mouth quirked up into a grin and she stayed right where she was, much to Amarant's discomfort.

"We got something for you too," Freya told the fidgeting monk. Amarant looked down at her quizzically, cocking his head to the side in an obvious silent query. She grinned as she reached one clawed hand into the heavily weighted pocket of her coat where Amarant's gift was stashed. "That's why I came to find you, one reason anyway; everyone else figured you'd walk away or ignore them if they tried to strike up a conversation, never mind give you a gift! We all chipped in, I hope you like it."

Amarant took the offered gift and turned it over in his huge hands. It was a silver flask worked over with a twisting flame motif. No words were engraved, so nothing incriminating to lead back to its owner if the thing happened to be dropped where an enterprising bounty hunter could take advantage. Amarant twisted open the cap and grinned when the smell of his favorite whiskey ticked his nose. As Freya expected, he immediately took a deep swig of the liquid. When finished he paused. Freya could almost see his brow crinkling in confusion as he shook the flask that appeared no lighter than before, though the size of the drink he'd taken should have depleted its contents significantly.

She chuckled. "It's enchanted to be larger on the inside than it appears, that's why we all needed to chip in for it. It holds about a liter of liquid. Do you like it?"

Amarant took another swig, shook the seemingly unchanged flask one more time, then capped it and turned to Freya with a wide grin. "I can't think of anythin' I'd like more."

"Good, I'll make sure to let everyone know." In a very calculated movement Freya turned her back on the monk and started to walk away. Slowly. But not too slowly. It needed to look like she intended to leave him to his own devices, but not so quickly that she seemed to be running away. If Freya let on that she wanted him to join in the festivities the obstinate man would refuse just to spite her! He had to think it his own idea, but she had to set the bait first. For five steps there was silence. Freya subtly turned her right ear so the shell of it could easily captures sounds from behind. On the sixth step her efforts were rewarded.

"Hey."

She stopped and turned her head to look at the flame haired monk.

"Where're you goin'?" he asked.

"Back to the party. You coming?"

Amarant frowned. ". . . No."

Freya's ears and tail immediately drooped. She was so certain Amarant would say something along the lines of, what the hell why not, and follow her back to the others. Socialization was good for the big idiot, despite all his protests to the contrary. Besides, the others missed him just as much as Freya had. Eiko, little spitfire she was, almost went out looking for Amarant herself once she realized the monk was nowhere to be found. It was a good thing that the arrival of her adoptive father and his armload of gifts distracted her or said monk probably would be halfway across the Lindblum plain by now in his effort to escape.

While she watched Amarant ran a finger over the etched flame designs on the flask. He looked at her for a moment, long enough to take in her disappointment, then turned his attention back to the gift.

"Not yet. A little later I will."

Well, it wasn't what she'd hoped for, but it would have to be good enough. As she turned to continue on her way Amarant cleared his throat. The noise caught her attention, as he'd intended, and she looked back at him again.

"Want to stay here?" His words startled her. But after they'd bounced around in her head for a few seconds she felt herself smiling. Sure, why the hell not. A quick pivot and six steps later she was back to leaning against the wall at Amarant's side. He grinned, she grinned back. It was good to spend Midwinter's Eve with a friend.

A few minutes of companionable silence later Freya was mildly surprised to hear Amarant's baritone rumble break the quiet.

"If the offer still stands, I'll take one of those peppermints."

The red and green striped candy changed hands, with only a little disappointment on Freya's part. That was quickly allayed as she observed the amusing sight of the Flaming Amarant sticking a piece of candy between his teeth and holding it there like a cigarette. Her own half finished stick found its way to her hand again and she resumed her nibbling at it.

"Happy Midwinter's Eve, Freya."

"Happy Midwinter's Eve, Amarant."

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_Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night._


End file.
